On A Wire
by TopHatGirl
Summary: With Show Choir Internationals taking place in Toronto, Sex Bob-Ombs finally getting a good gig, and, well, a zombie invasion, life's a little odd. Hey, it is Canada.
1. Chapter 1

"Canada is in Nationals, guys!" Mr. Schuester said. Everyone raised an eyebrow, and Mr. Schue quickly corrected himself. "I meant, Nationals is taking place in Canada."

"Ohhhhhh," his class chorused.

"Toronto, to be more precise," Mr. S continued.

"Isn't Toronto, like, a bjillion miles away and stuff? And isn't that 'international'?" Puck asked. Mr. S ignored him for plot's sake.

"Toronto is the Mexican food that Nana makes when she's drunk," Brittany said airly, twirling her ponytail. Mercedes sneered.

"Toronto is a city, Brittany," Mr. S said, and clasped his hands together. "We'll need to take an airplane this time, so we need to get fundraising."

"Bake sale, here we come," Puck muttered, a devious smile growing on his face.

-_**SOMEWHERE IN TORONTO-**_

"No way!" he shouted, slamming his palms on the table, causing the sushi to leap off the plates. Stephen Stills instantaneously caught a shrimp mid-air with his chopsticks, and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"Yes way, Scott," Stephen Stills said, talking with a full mouth. He swallowed it, and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. "It's good publicity. Besides, you don't even know what a 'show choir' is."

"Who cares? I am not doing it," Scott said, crossing his arms.

"Why does Envy want you guys anyways?" Ramona asked.

"Yeah, why us?" Kim agrees. "I mean, it's a singing competish. We're not choir. We're rock."

"Well, technically, we're not 'in the competition'," Stephen Stills said, airquoting. "We are supposedly the intermission band, to fill up space while the groups are changing their makeup and crap."

Kim raised an eyebrow, sipping some green tea. "Wouldn't the audience, be like, getting snacks and stuff, then?"

"You should totally do it," Knives said, eyes sparkling. "It'd be totally awesome, and people would buy your album!"

"But Envy's the one who offered," Wallace Wells grumbled. "And anything that bitch offers is about as worth it as dog shit."

"I agree with Wallace," Ramona said, crossing her arms.

"How the hell does Envy have authority on who plays at a National Competition?" Kim asked.

"She's a judge," Scott muttered, still in a foul mood. "There's a theme of famous musician judges or something."

"Famous musicians?" Wallace snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Did she ask you directly, Scott?" Knives asked.

Scott nodded, and sighed. "Well, it happened like this..."

_Scott Pilgrim is coming back from the Gamer's Cavern, clutching the brand new Mario Kart in his hand. It was finally his, even if he had bought it with Wallace's credit card. Despite the cloudy Canadian skies, this day could not be possibly brighter._

"_Hello, Scott," A voice cooed._

_Aaaaannnnd, it's dark again. _

_He turned, and saw the long figure of his ex-girlfriend, Natalie "Envy" Adams there, smoking._

"_Envy," he said briskly. _

"_I need a favor, Scottie."_

"_Scottie?"_

_Envy smirks. "See, I'm judging this little glee competition, and they need a filler band. They asked me to do it, and I said that my band, is, well, a bit under construction right now. But I said that I had a perfect one in mind."_

"_I'm not doing it, Envy."_

"_Yes you are. You're not rich, and it pays."_

_Scott huffed. "I am so rich!"_

"_Sure." She smashes the cigarette with her heel. "I'll just call Stephen Stills. I'm sure he'll say yes."_

_He sighs. She's got him. _

Kurt yawns, and shuts his textbook. "I swear, if I have to look at one more word problem, I will burn my closet."

Blaine chuckled. "Finals is almost over. Besides, we have that trip to Canada to look forward to."

"Yeah, look forward to," Kurt said sarcastically.

"It's nice that Rachel invited us, though," Blaine said.

"She's trying to pull us into McKinley with her long claws," Kurt warned.

"Oh, well. At least there's gonna be famous people as judges."

Kurt perked up. "Who? Tom Cruise? Beyonce? Oh sweet Gucci, Lady Gaga?"

"No, no, and sorry, no." Blaine tossed him a rolled up paper. "The lead singer for this band called Clash of the Demonhead."

Kurt unrolled it, and it indeed showed a poster of three people-a bespectacled girl who looked like she had a machine arm, a muscular pretty boy, and the most intimidating woman with flirtatious yet menacing red lips.

"Yeesh. It looks like she wants tokill everyone in her path. Those heels must've cost a fortune."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Probably. But she's famous. Her autograph could sell for hundreds on eBay."

**-somewhere else_-_**

Kim halfheartedly watched the cheap Japanese monster movie remake at her work, waiting for Hollie to get back. The video store was slow today, for reasons unknown. She sighed, and switched the format on the TV, from video to television. The news was on, telling about some new discovery.

**NEW VIRUS HAS BEEN DISCOVERED-**

Probably just another news created story to scare the public. Kim switched off the TV, and leaned back in her chair. Another long day ahead.

**-time passes-**

New Directions piled on to the airplane, pushing and shoving each-other to get to their seats. The flight attendant sighed, and dutifully helped the rambunctious teenagers put their suitcases up. Kurt and Blaine followed, looking out of place in their Dalton uniforms. They all squished into the scratchy seats, and complained loudly that the engines were too loud.

A blonde twenty three year old tucked her short hair behind her ear. She tugged at the hem of her dress, worrying that it might be a bit too slutty. She's been through the slutty phase, and she never wants to go back. She glanced at her seatmate.

"Hey, is that the latest issue of Vogue?" she asks, tapping at the magazine the teenage boy was reading. His eyes sweep over her, analyzing her style and possible friendliness.

"Yes," he said finally, eyes drifting back down to his article.

The woman bit her lip, "Uh, do you think..."

"Hm?" the boy said, looking up again.

"Uh, when you're done, could I maybe possibly read it?" she asked.

"Sure," he says, smiling. There's another, slightly darker, boy next to him, who's eyes widen at the sight of the woman.

"You're...you're..." he stutters.

She outstretches a hand, going behind the other pale teenage boy's head. "Lisa Miller. Pleased to meet you."

"Blaine Anderson," he said, shaking her hand. "Huge fan."

"Oh really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't think anyone would recognize me."

"Please. You're the biggest talk of the sci-fi geeks right now! An actual young cute girl in a science fiction movie is rare these days."

Lisa blushed. "Thanks. It's nice to know I have fans."

The boy with the Vogue magazine finally noticed that the two people next to him are having a conversation, and instantly must be in it. "Blaine, do you know this girl?"

"Kurt, that's Lisa Miller," Blaine said, pointing at Lisa. "She's the star of the movie Possibly Alien. Remember? I took you to see it? You fell asleep?"

"Oh..." The boy, Kurt, looked back to the girl. "I had no idea."

"No biggie," Lisa said, shrugging. She points to an article in the Vogue Magazine. "Actually, that's my picture right there."

**SCIENCE FICTION GONE FASHION! NEW STAR LISA MILLER SHOWING OFF HER NEW LOOKS**

"Well, you certainly look fabulous in green," Kurt said.

"What is a big shot like you doing in an airplane coming from Lima, Ohio?" Blaine asked.

"Oh, well I was doing a shoot out in the nothingness next to the town, and I just went here to get on the soonest airplane to Toronto."

"Toronto? Why are you going there?" Kurt inquired.

"I'm seeing my friends, they're in a band, at this competition going on there. I think it's called glee or something," she said, rubbing her chin. "Anyways, I have a flyer for it." She digs around in her carry on bag, and presents a flyer.

Kurt snatches it from her hand, and shows it to Blaine. It was an advertisement for Nationals.

**SHOW CHOIR NATIONALS!**

**PRESENTING:**

**THE NEW DIRECTIONS**

**VOCAL ADRENELINE**

**AND...**

**SOAPY SOPRANOS!**

"That's them!" Kurt said, pointing at the flyer. "Lisa, our friends are in the New Directions! Their on this airplane right now." He gestured to all of the crazy teenagers on the flight, in various forms of insanity. "We're going with them to see them perform."

"Ain't this a coincidence!" Lisa said. "I guess I'll be seeing you at the show, then!"

"Can we sit together, maybe?" Blaine asks with wide puppy dog eyes.

Lisa laughed. "Sure, whatever." She pulls out the New York Times from her purse, and opens it, thus ending the conversation.

Kurt peeked over at her, and registers the front cover of the Times. **VIRUS EPIDEMIC IS QUICKLY SPREADING-**

Kurt rolled his eyes, and goes back to his much more interesting Vogue magazine.

**NEXT: THE END OF THE WORLD! **

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, boring chapter. But, y'know, next time.  
><strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: this chapter is not as detailed, or good as the last. It's just to get plot and action rolling. The two song with lyrics in them are copyright Me. Yeah, they're ORIGINAL SONGS. Crappy ones, but original nontheless.**

**Disclaimer: Scott Pilgrim and it's characters, along with Glee and it's characters do not belong to me. They belong to the original owner and their affiliates. **

**2**

**THINGS PICK UP**

"WE SUCK!" Stephen Stills cries, tugging at his hair.

"Kind of..." Julie mumbles, studying her nails. "Yeah, you suck."

"How's my favorite band?" Envy asks, emerging backstage. Wallace's fist tightens, and he gives her the most acerbic glare he can muster. Ramona turns her nose up the other way from Envy, getting into a conversation with Knives. Young Neil has nothing to do, so he climbs up into the catwalks.

Kim just hates everyone, so she just configures with her wire brushes.

"Hey, you guys have to stay back here and look invisible. The glee clubs are going to be here in any minute, and I have to go up at the judge's booth," Envy says.

Stephen Stills nods, and shoos her away. "Am I the only one perturbed by this situation?"

"I don't even know the meaning of the word," Scott says confidently.

He really doesn't. Ramona rolls her eyes, and smiles.

"Psst! They're coming!" Knives stage whispers. "The...show choir groups."

_WHIP_! They all focused upwards as the backstage doors opened, and tons of teenagers barge in and chatter incessantly.

Kim sniffs. "The smell of hormonal prime is thick in the air."

* * *

><p>Rachel put her hands on her hips and took in a deep inhale of her surroundings. "It's not Carnegie Hall, but it's alright."<p>

Mercedes rolls her eyes. "Mr. Schue, should we change?"

Mr. Schue nods, clasping his hands together. "Go get ready, you guys!" He turns to Kurt and Blaine. "You guys are fine just hanging backstage, right?"

Blaine and Kurt exchange mischievous glances, and nod feverishly before running off.

"They're going to have sex in the catwalks, aren't they? Wanky," Santana says with a wink.

**-somewhere in Lima-**

Burt Hummel convulsed, a shiver running through his body.

"Burt? You okay?" his new wife, Carol, asks.

"I just had an odd feeling of wanting to murder someone."

"Who?"

"No clue."

* * *

><p>Tina gives her a once over in the mirror. "My lips look pale and awful!" she cries.<p>

"It's called lipstick, Tee, use it," Santana says, applying mascara.

"Here, face me," Quinn says, opening a tube of lip liner, and delicately gliding it across Tina's lips. Tina takes this time to examine the backstage prep room. Mirrors line across the walls, and the walls are painted a light gold. The ceilings are...

"There's a girl in the ceiling beams!" Tina shouts, pointing up. Sure enough, as everyone looks up, there's a tiny Asian girl sitting in the rafters, reading. "Hey! Girl!" Tina calls.

The girl looks up, startled.

"Who are you?" Rachel demands. "Are you from the Soapy Sopranos? ARE YOU A SPY?"

The girl smirks, and jumps down, striped scarf fluttering behind her. She lands swiftly and safely, much to their surprise. She straightens out, whipping the hair out of her face. "Knives Chau."

_**18 YEARS OLD.**_

Rachel, unfazed by the sheer badass-ness of that move, marches up face to face to Knives. "You didn't answer my question."

Knives scoffs, pushing the taller girl about two feet back. "I'm not a spy. I'm with the band."

"Band?" Quinn asks.

"They're called, the Sex Bob-Ombs."

* * *

><p>Stephen Stills re-adjusts the microphone stand. For the tenth time.<p>

"Chill out," Kim says in a monotone voice. "We're not going on for another two hours or so."

Wallace Wells grins deviously. "Ahem. I'm not needed, so I'm going to scope out on the men's dressing room."

"Don't..." Ramona starts, but she shakes her head. "Never mind. You won't listen to me."

Wallace smirks, and slides through the door inside.

* * *

><p>"My hair is fading!" Sam shrieks.<p>

Puck punches his arm. "No one cares." He straightens the tie on his shirt. "I look totally un bad ass."

"I think you all look sexy..." Wallace pronounces.. All of the glee guys's eyes widen, and turn to the twenty something year old leaning against the door, eyebrow raised.

"Uh...who are you?" Finn asks.

Wallace pushes off against the wall, examining all of them. "How old are you guys?"

"Seventeen, most of us." Puck says.

"Is this guy checking us out?" Mike whispers to Artie.

Neil is taking a nap in the catwalks, dreaming of Zelda. Everything is so peaceful up here...

…

…..

…

..

"Oh, Blaine..." a sigh and a giggle is heard. Neil stirs from his sleep, and stands up, grabbing the bar for support. He squints, and on the other end he sees two people, whispering to eachother and-

OH GOD THEY'RE MAKING OUT.

Neil shudders, and wonders what to do. Should he try to get away or something?

Are they-

OH MY LINK THEY'RE ABOUT TO TAKE OFF EACH-OTHER'S CLOTHING.

"DON'T!" Neil squeaks. The two people turn around swiftly, and have the deer-in-headlights look plastered on their faces.

And...they're two dudes.

"I'm...kinda...right here," Neil says awkwardly. The two guys jump apart from eachother, turning to him in full horror.

"I'm so sorry!" the lighter one sputters, fully embarrassed.

"We had no idea anyone was here!"

"Of course." Neil backs away towards the other ladder. "I'll leave you two alone, then." Climbing down each step, he hears the continuation of giggles. Shuddering, he jumps down the last three steps, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"**SOAPY SOPRANOS, PLEASE REPORT TO BACKSTAGE, SHOW STARTS IN FIVE," ** a voice says over the intercom. Neil jolts, checking his superhero watch. Superman says that he was sleeping a long goddamn time. He circles his way back to the band set up, and by now Stephan Stills has dashed off to the bathroom, puking his intestines and trace amounts of frozen burrito up.

* * *

><p>Scott tunes his bass, humming the first few notes of 'Power-Up 4 Me'. His outturned collars and 8-bit tie look kind of geeky, but the black jacket (sort of) makes up for it.<p>

Scott turns, studies the Soapy Sopranos stride out to line up behind the curtains. They look like automatons or priest robots. The girls are wearing floor length floral print dresses, hair combed into a tight bun. They wear a shawl over it to prevent any cleavage sightings. The guys have good boy 50's hairstyles, and shined shoes. What the-

* * *

><p>Kurt and Blaine sit in the audience, hair and clothes rumpled from...earlier, biting their lips in anticipation. Soapy Sopranos are crowd pleasers, apparently, but have never posted their videos online, so neither the Warblers or the New Directions have been able to do any solid research on them.<p>

The lights dim, and the spotlight swings to the side of the stage. The host stumbles out, almost tipping over.

"Ladies and Gentlemen-"-hiccup- "welcome to the International competitions! First off, lets welcome our judges!"

Three people ascend the short staircase, and join the host's side.

"Right here," the host begins, blindly grabbing a small man and presenting him off, "is the one and only Justin Bieber Impersonator!" A few weak claps ring out, leaving a stale silence. A burly man in sunglasses steps out next. "Next up, Miley Cyrus's security guard!"

"This is terrible," Kurt mutters in Blaine's ear.

"Just wait..." he leans forward, grinning in anticipation.

"And, the woman all the girls want to be, and the one the men want to go out with then eventually cheat on her, ENVY ADAMS!"

The crowd bursts into frenzied cheers and whoops. The woman in question is wearing a very revealing outfit, neckline plunging halfway down her chest, but a criss cross pattern across it. Her high heels are clear, but lace up well into her upper thighs.

"She's...so...fabulous..." Kurt whispers, reaching a hand out and grasping thin air.

"Told you," Blaine chides, and Kurt responds by elbowing him in the side.

Envy approaches the mike, lips almost molesting it as she announces, "And now, **it's time. **Let's give a kick ass welcome to the SOAPY SOPRANOS."

The curtain rises, bringing to light a long line of the most conservative dressers in the history of show choir.

They begin to sway back and forth, crossing their arms across their stomach. They open their mouths to sing.

* * *

><p><em>Sweet little bird in the morning<em>

_I cannot contain my love for good_

_Butterflies, please release_

_Life is so perfect_

* * *

><p>Kim Pine clutches her drumsticks, eyes going wide. There is something horribly, terribly going on here.<p>

Blaine can't contain so much fluff...can't...take it...

* * *

><p><em>I love myself, <em>they echo.

Suddenly, the auditorium plunges in black, and flashing color lights flood the audience. Spotlights turn back to the stage, and the girls tear off their dresses, with a tight black jumpsuits underneath. No sleeves. The guys just tore off their shirts, with well toned muscles underneath.

The crowd. Went. Wild.

"THIS IS WHAT WE WERE WAITING FOR!" someone screeches.

_I LOVE MYSELF, BECAUSE I'M SO DAMN HOT! _The girls belt out, sticking out their chests and winking.

_Everything is sexy-y-y,_

_and I can't stop looking at myself_

_in the goddamn mirror._

_So love us 'cuz we're hot,_

_love us 'cuz you're not._

_We rock!_

_You suck!_

_YEAH!_

_So go crazy, oh so crazy, for us,_

_and you won't be disappointed, oh, oh._

_We can dance like there's no today,_

_we can blow your mind if you pay,_

_so love us 'cuz we're hot,_

_and love us 'cuz you're not. _

_Oh whoa, hey oh. _

* * *

><p>"This is making me extremely melancholy," Artie whines.<p>

"THIS SUCKS!" Finn growls, clutching the side curtains.

"I suck, too," Wallace says, appearing behind them with a flirtatious smile. Finn cocks his head like a curious puppy, unsure what the adult is saying.

Soapy Sopranos exits stage right, audience all have wet their pants in excitement.

"It's a tough act to follow," Rachel announces. "But we can do it, guys!"

"They have an original song," Tina points out. "That's our thing!"

Santana furrows her eyebrows at the pamphlet sheet. "Who's on next, again-" she's interrupted by the Vocal Adrenaline coach shoving her out of the way, crossing his arms and staring lovingly out on the stage, where his students are lining up to sing.

"We are, bitch," he says. "Get ready to have your world rocked like a threesome."

And, in absolute horror, New Directions stares in horror at Vocal Adrenaline starts to sing. They're signing Sing. The My Chemical Romance one.

"That's what we were gonna sing!" Rachel protests.

"FUCK!" Santana shouts. "Santana gonna cut a bitch!"

* * *

><p><strong>3<strong>

**STUFF STARTS HAPPENING**

After Vocal whatever finally ends, The house lights go up, and the host approaches the mike again.

"Well, since things are getting a little too hot, we're going to have a brief intermission, with New Directions performing afterwards! But meanwhile, we have a band called the Sex Bombs-"

"SEX BOB-_OMBS!" _Stephan Stills calls from behind the curtain. New Directions finally notices the band setting up, and watch with curiosity.

"Whatever," the host says, eyes swimming. "The Sex Bob-Ombs will be playing their song 'Power Up 4 Me'. Visit the lovely lobby for refreshments!"

The lights go down again, and the spotlight is on the Sex Bob-Ombs. Scott gives his cocky grin, Kim glares, and Stephan Stills pulls at his collar. People begin to shuffle out.

**FINALLY,**

**IT'S **

**TIME.**

Scott strums his bass, and a resounding G chord reverberates throughout. People pause, lingering.

"WE ARE THE SEX BOB-OMBS!" Kim begins, saying her natural line. She thumps her sticks together, giving a resounding, "ONE TWO THREE FOUR!"

_You never even called me back_

_That night, you left_

_rushed thru that door_

_oh honey, please stop_

_The last I heard_

_you were_

_drinking your life away,_

_selfish brats you all are._

_Why the fuck do I care?_

_Why the fuck are you calling,_

_it's half past midnight,_

_and I can't even bother to pick up._

_Oh so _

_Little Miss brigade, power up 4 me,_

_I'd do it for me._

_Earn those experience points baaaaby,_

_won't you come back to me baaaby?_

_Don't end this perfect game we have_

_oh come back to me_

_come play with me_

_level up with me,_

_power up 4 me!_

New Directions gawks, listening closely at this rock capade.

"They. Rock," Puck whispers in awe.

"They kind've rock," Blaine says, still sitting in his seat. Kurt plops in the seat next to him, sipping a diet soda.

"What'd I miss?" he calls over the music.

Knives Chau gets those stars in her eyes, mouth parting open slightly.

They've improved.

_I'll treat you right,_

_like I might,_

_you look so bright,_

_why the hell am I rhyming-_

_**!**_

_**AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**_

Screams pierce through the loud music, stopping all noise.

Then-

Sirens.

"_**VIRUS HAS HIT TORONTO!" **_Police officers yell, bursting in. People panic, scrambling to hit the doors. Kurt and Blaine fight against the current, trying to get to their friends backstage.

"**EVERYONE PANIC!"**

"**-_Rotting flesh..._"**

"**-_go crazy-"_**

"_**-worldwide-"**_

New Directions, Will Schuester, Sex Bob-Ombs, Envy Adams, Wallace, Kurt, Blaine, Neil, Knives, Ramona, and anyone else who matters all meet in center stage.

"Fuck," a voice says.

"It's the end of the world," Envy comments. Knives pulls her knife swords, scarf fluttering. Ramona fiddles with her bag zipper, ready to enter subspace at any moment.

"Well, let's get started," Wallace says casually.

"Team up?" Finn asks. "Like a video game."

"Like a damn survival," Mercedes says.

Scott pumps his fist. "**LET'S GO**!"

**NEXT TIME: EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING **


End file.
